


How Crosscut Could Have Ended

by FebruaryGemini



Category: Thunderbirds, thunderbirds are go
Genre: Brains and Grandma don't do anything, Everything that goes along with death, Gen, Gordon doesn't do much either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 14:33:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13483506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FebruaryGemini/pseuds/FebruaryGemini
Summary: “If we’re not up in five minutes, tell Thunderbird 2 to bury it.”“Understood,”But he’s not going to like that.





	1. Scott's Departure

**Author's Note:**

> This work is currently undergoing a major transformation. I'm having my sister help me rewrite basically the whole thing. It will be a lot better when it's done, I promise. The paragraph we've already done is phenomenal, I can't wait until I can post the revised version for you guys.  
> Thanks to all of you who read this sucky version, and specifically to User Hsg for leaving kudos. I hope all of you come back to read it again after the update.  
> Fondly Yours,  
> FeburaryGemini.

“Absolutely not, John.”  
“There isn’t time for anything else.”  
“He’s older than me! Do you know how weird that would be?”  
“Virgil, go configure the pod.”  
He unfastened his seatbelt and walked away from the console still arguing. “We’ve gotten away in less time before.”  
“That wasn’t counting the time it took to come up with a plan. So, if you have a plan already, now would be a great time to enact it.”  
The whirring of the machines as they attached the plow and treads drowned out the last of John’s sentence.

_“I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this.”_ Ran through his head with every sweep of the pod’s plow. Right about in the middle of the operation, he had to remind himself why he didn’t want to do this, and then his thoughts continued with increased volume.

About three minutes later, he climbed out of the too-hot cockpit and stumbled toward a patch of scrub brush, letting his helmet drop. The bush had managed to avoid being crushed under his tires, but it couldn’t jump out of the way of his lunch. John’s voice crackled out of his com. “...are you ok?”  
‘Are you ok?’ What a dumb question. No, he was not ok.  
He picked the helmet up, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “I know it feels like you’re kinda detached because you’re in space, but I just buried my brother alive...”  
“You did what you had to do.”  
“I know, I know,” he muttered, turning to put the dozer away and catching sight of… “We’re leaving that here.”  
“What?”  
“Thunderbird 1. That’s staying. It can fill up with dust. Like a memorial. Or a grave marker.”  
“Ok. No one will touch it.”  
“...thanks.”  
The bulldozer went back in its bay, the bay went back in Thunderbird 2, and Virgil made it back to the pilot’s chair. Then he saw his tracks through the windshield. “John?”  
“Yeah?”  
“He’s not dead yet.”  
“No, he’s not.”  
“He’s running out of air. You’ve faced that before. What’s it like? ...to run out of air.”  
John was silent for a long time and when he did speak his voice was very small. “It’s scary. Running out of air is really scary.”  
The silence after that lasted well over a minute.  
“...h-how long does he have?”  
“...sixty seconds.”  
“We should wait.”  
So they did.

Sixty seconds later, the dirt hadn’t moved.  
Virgil started his engine.  
Thirteen minutes later, he pulled into the Tracy Island docking bay.  
“John?”  
“Yeah?”  
“You should come down here. We need you.”  
“We’ll have to hang up.”  
“That’s ok, just get down here.”  
The click and the complete silence that followed felt a lot bigger than they were.  
Eventually, he stood up and climbed down from the ship. How was he going to tell Gordon and Alan?  
He must have waited longer than he thought because he and John walked into the living room within twenty seconds of each other.  
Alan, who hadn’t even noticed Virgil, vaulted over the back of the couch and ran to give John a hug. “Hi! What are you doing down…” Yup, that was when he noticed. “...when’s Scott getting back?”  
Virgil didn’t even try to look at anything other than his shoes. “He’s not.”  
John ruffled Alan’s hair in an attempt to make the news easier to swallow. “This was his last mission.”  
Alan looked like the ground had crumbled under his feet and Virgil wished he hadn’t looked up.  
Gordon got up from the couch, grabbed Virgil’s hand, and led him over to where Alan and John were standing. Then he attempted to wrap his arms around all of them at once. John followed first, then Alan, then Virgil. This was how they had to live now.  
Now that Scott was gone.


	2. Telling Kayo

Thunderbird Shadow settled into its docking bay, Kayo climbed out of the cockpit and attached the fuel line from the box on the wall. She had previously discovered that it took precisely the same amount of time to refuel as it did to change out of her super suit. So she walked back in with perfect timing to put everything away.

This time she noticed the gaping hole in the middle of the room. Scott was out and he’d left a mess of tools behind. Typical.

The first thing she noticed upon getting back to the lounge was the cluster of, well, everybody. Even John was there.  
“Hey, guys… what’s up?”  
None of them looked at her and she could have sworn she heard Gordon sob. Or was it Alan. They were both there, and John, and Virgil… Had something happened to Scott? “...guys?”  
“Kayo, we lost Scott.”  
Oh, ok. He was just lost. He’d be home in time for supper.  
“There wasn’t time to do anything else.”  
They had to… leave him behind?  
“The mine…” Virgil’s head came up.  
...was collapsing?!  
“The radiation was…” Now John.  
What?! “...what did you do?”  
“Kayo,” they both looked at her, “we had to fill it in.”  
“I buried Scott alive.”

She blinked. Then shook her head. Then tried to wrap it around the idea that the gaping hole she’d notice earlier would never be filled again. Scott couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t. He was Scott.

“...It’s not your fault.”  
“Well, it kinda is! If I’d been faster, I could have been there when he needed me.”  
“You were there when he needed you.”  
“Don’t. John, don’t you dare.”  
“Guys!”

All four of them looked at her. They also looked terrible. John’s eyes were redder than his hair. Virgil still had tears dripping off his chin. Gordon looked like he might faint. And Alan kept trying to wipe his tears away, like seeing Kayo clearly was the most important thing, but they wouldn’t stop coming. These boys had just lost their brother, leader, father-figure, and friend all in one fell swoop. What she had to say sounded cheap and dumb now, but they were waiting for her to say something anyway. “...g-guys…” Crap, now she was getting choked up, “I-I know…” She didn’t know. None of them knew. “I… I’m sorry, guys. You shouldn’t have to go through this.”

Alan threw his arms around her waist and then the cluster included her, and they all cried as Brains made his way up from the lab.

Once Grandma had joined them too Gordon cleared his throat, “...you know what would be the worst thing?”  
“No, Gordon.”  
“If Dad walked through that door right now.”  
He was then excluded from the hug.


	3. What They Did Without Him

Two days later, Virgil walked into the lounge with a rectangular package, which he set on the table, before going to Scott’s portrait on the wall. He tried not to look at those piercing, blue eyes as he lifted it off its nail, revealing the projector behind it. “Virgil! What are you doing?!” He very nearly dropped it. “Put him back.”  
“Not like this. Open the package.”  
Gordon did as he was told, tearing the paper off an ornate, golden frame. “...oh.”  
“Yeah…”  
And the two of them changed out the frame and replaced Scott’s portrait next to the others.

A week after that, Alan lay on the floor in Scott’s room. He used to sleep in John’s room, but now Scott was farther away. A knock on the door broke into his thoughts. He knew it was a summons to some rescue or another. That was something he didn’t want to deal with right now. He rolled under the bed.  
“Alan, c’mon. I know you’re in there.”  
He squeezed his eyes shut.  
“You’re needed.”  
“I know!”  
The door opened and Virgil walked in. “You can come right back here when you’re done.”  
“...ok.”

But something was off when he got back. The door was ajar. Someone was in there. He pushed the door open with something like fear in his chest. That fear was warranted. Kayo was in there, putting Scott’s books into a cardboard box. “No!”  
“Alan…”  
“It hasn’t even been two weeks!” He practically pushed her out of the way and started putting books back. Wait, no. This wasn’t the right order, he had the principia next to his yearbook and the… which one was this again? The letters of the title were all blurring together. Kayo, what have you done?  
Then her hands were on his. “Shh, Alan, don’t cry. I’m sorry. I’ll put them back.” And she did. She even remembered which books went where. Except for this one.  
“He was in the middle of that one. It was on the nightstand.”  
“In the middle? I gave this to him months ago.”  
“It had a bookmark in it and everything.”  
“Where?” She started flipping through. There was something stuck between pages 174 and 175, but it wasn’t a bookmark. “Alan, this is an envelope.”  
“So?”  
“There’s something inside...”  
And so there was.  
“Kayo, we should call a family meeting.”


	4. Love, Scott.

~~Dear~~ If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead. If I’m not dead, then I’m going to assume you’re Alan and you will be dead if you don’t get out of my room.

If I am dead, you may continue reading. Wow, that was morbid. But this whole death-letter/will thing is morbid so, whatever.

Sorry, I guess, for leaving you like that. It was probably what Dad would have done anyway.

Virgil, you’re the oldest now. Good luck (ha ha) you’ll need it. You’ll probably make a better oldest than I did. You always were better at remembering birthdays and favorite foods and stuff like that. Oh, that means you’re Gordon and Alan’s dad now too. Try to keep Christmas special, I know Grandma will help you as much as she can. And make sure John spends some time on earth.

John, don’t stay on Thunderbird 5 all the time. Alan especially needs to have you close sometimes. Oh gosh, ~~don’t try to replace me~~ yeah, probably don’t. I don’t really want to be replaced. You still need a Thunderbird 1 though, so maybe see if Paul* could come out sometimes.

Gordon, ~~I’m putting you in charge of Virgil.~~ I don’t know what to say to you. Bounce back. Don’t get all depressed forever. You’re supposed to be the lighthearted joker. The upbeat ~~orange~~ yellow one. Keep making jokes even if they have to be about me.

Alan, I’m really sorry. I want to see you grow up, I really do did. You’ll need to go on more solo missions now. I know you can handle it. And you’ve got everyone standing behind you. They’ve got your back. You can do this.

Kayo, be careful out there. Next to me, you’re the most likely to die doing something stupid, and I don’t think these guys want to think about trying to replace you.

Grandma, thanks for everything. You were the last person who took care of me and that means more than I can say. I wish I could hug you.  


Brains, you know as well as I do that whatever happened wasn’t a mechanical failure. There’s nothing wrong with your gadgets. You should also go on a few missions in person. Take some risks. You’re braver than you think you are. And tinker on TB3 for once, it could use it.

Dad, (if you ever get the chance to read this) the boys will tell you, my favorite saying was, 'It's what Dad would have done'. I hope I wasn't wrong.

Everyone, I was happy. Like, actually happy. We do good work. And I know you won’t stop. We’re making a difference. This was just an accident. We deal with accidents all the time. ~~Sorry, I can’t~~ Don’t cry too much. This isn’t the end of the world or the world’s problems, so it can’t be the end of International Rescue.

We kept going because it was Dad’s dream. Now you guys keep going ‘cause it’s my dream too. Be there. Save people. Save each other.

I’ve got nothing more to say.

Love, Scott.

  

*He wrote his number in my yearbook. Don’t start stalking people, John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first multi-chapter fic! Huzzah!
> 
> This chapter is supposed to be in Architect's Daughter, but I can't figure out how to code fonts. (This is what disqualifies me from the Captor family. :P) So if anyone wants to try and help me with that, shoot me a message.
> 
> Also, the whole story needs something and I can't figure out what. Comment with your ideas about that.


End file.
